


Bloodletting

by ravenhairedtrickster



Category: Byzantium (2012), Dracula Untold (2014)
Genre: Crossover, M/M, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-18
Updated: 2014-11-18
Packaged: 2018-02-26 03:33:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2636492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravenhairedtrickster/pseuds/ravenhairedtrickster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You are weak.”</p><p>Vlad says it with such certainty, Darvell almost believes him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bloodletting

**Author's Note:**

> Just two vampires I really enjoy meeting each other for my own writerly pleasure. I'd suggest to anyone who hasn't seen Byzantium to go watch it.

“You are weak.”

Vlad says it with such certainty, Darvell almost believes him. 

“Because I feed on those already dying?” He retorts and they’re nose to nose. Somehow his gaze doesn't falter.

“You’re old fashion.”

“I am strong,” Vlad hisses, his fingers finding Darvell’s earlobe, nails pinching as they climb higher. “You reek of a hunger I’ve not felt in years. Young blood will quench it.”

Darvell shudders, his eyes shutting. He can’t deny it, Vlad is right, ancient and powerful and smelling of his most recent kill. He licks his lips, inhaling deeply when Vlad leans in, mouth open, scenting Darvell’s exposed throat. 

“You have potential,” Vlad murmurs and his fingers tighten. He pulls Darvell’s head back cruelly, enjoying the pained noise he forces from the other vampires lips. “I should like to explore it.”

“You can’t without consent,” Darvell manages, gasping when he feels teeth nibbling his jaw. 

“I could,” Vlad replies softly, working his way down. “I could force your submission.. But where’s the fun in that?”

Darvell grunts in response. If his heart was still beating perhaps it would’ve been pounding as Vlad tested fangs along his throat. Surely Vlad wouldn’t. The vampire was old, older than any Darvell had met before, he had nothing to gain from blood raping another. 

“Will you submit, Darvell?” 

What would _she_ say. Clara, in all her glory and destruction. He reckons she’d probably laugh in the face of his disdain, in the hesitation rooted deep within his being. 

Darvell shudders. He takes a gamble, weighing Vlad’s need to dominate against a paper thin bluff.

“No.” 

He fails to hide the tremble in his voice.

“Pity,” Vlad murmurs gently and he toys with the ornate buttons of Darvell’s jacket, tearing them off one by one when they refuse to yield. “You’ve only made things worse for yourself, such a shame though no less amusing for me.” 

The cold has no hold over vampires but Darvell’s skin prickles as though an icy wind teases it to gooseflesh. He can’t even struggle under Vlad’s power when long-nailed fingers grip his chin, tilting his head to the side, bearing the length of his throat with practiced ease. 

From behind him Vlad inhales, leans in. 

Darvell nearly has the mind to protest but his chance to do this the easy way are already forfeit. Vlad’s imposing scent surrounds him now, consumes him and his mind is blissfully heavy with it when teeth sink ruthlessly into his flesh.

Darvell’s entire existence is pain but Vlad holds him tight, still, controlled as he drinks fragile memories of childhood, of a girl, of his own blasphemous creation. 

His blood is thick with history but lacking in any sort of strength. Vlad can’t fathom it and when he pulls back Darvell is shaking in his grasp, mouth open in a silent scream, eyes blank, dark, endless. 

Vlad licks the wounds he’s inflicted. 

Darvell feels drunk, his veins are burning, his head throbbing, consciousness fluttering as his world collides with something unknown and alien. He’s been drained and as a result he now knows Vlad’s ownership with every fiber of his being. 

“Not pleasant, but I gave you a chance to come willingly.” 

Vlad sounds something akin to sad. But it couldn’t be that, Darvell is sure of it. No vampire takes from another without consent, no vampire could be so cruel. 

“I am not cruel,” Vlad chuckles and Darvell starts, wrenching free of Vlad’s grasp.

The ground rushes up to meet him and he embraces it with gusto, hoping that maybe in his weakened state it’ll strike him dead. 

“You will not die under my care.”

Darvell shudders, snorting dirt from his nose. Horror coils in his gut like a poisonous viper at Vlad’s words. He never voiced anything out loud-

“This,” Vlad says, “is part of our bond.”

“Yo-You’re in my head.” Darvell hisses, voice wobbly. 

“Why yes, as you are in mine.”

Darvell’s head hurts. He wants nothing more than to curl up and wake from this nightmare.

Vlad laughs, “This is no nightmare, Darvell. This is just the beginning. Now come.”

And when Vlad walks away Darvell cannot resist the need to follow. 

He stands on bambi legs and gives in, there’s no two ways around it; he is Vlad’s now.


End file.
